May the Odds Be Ever in Your Favor
by Queen of Loopholes
Summary: Hunger Games meets Downton Abbey. Tom Branson is a sixteen year old boy, facing one of the most difficult challenges of his life. With his District 12 partner, Sybil Crawley, can they overcome a suffocating government and remain alive long enough to see their families again?
1. One

The sun has just begun to rise when I head toward the edge of the district, just outside the woods. Normally, people in the Seam would be bustling about, having begun their days mining just before the sun rose. They would be heading toward the mines and diving into the darkness, their lungs filling with coal dust.

But today is different.

Today is the reaping.

I know that people are still sleeping, taking advantage of what today means. For most families, they will sleep in, attend the reaping, then head home relieved. For two families, devastation and grief will follow them home...and probably for the rest of their lives. District 12 isn't known for winning the games.

But I need to hunt first, and am taking the opportunity to do it now while it's still quiet. There's plenty of time before the reaping early this afternoon. The Hob will still be open, still be operating as usual until later on. We should be able to have enough food for a proper dinner after the reaping.

As I think of this, I arrive at our spot. There, red hair shining in the sun, is my best friend. She hears me and turns, a brief look of fear on her face before she recognizes it's me. She visibly relaxes and gives me that bright smile of hers, the one that reaches her eyes.

Gwen Dawson and I had met a few years back, after both our fathers had died in a terrible mining accident. I had been hunting for my family when I noticed a rabbit caught in a snare. I had reached up to examine it when Gwen had appeared.

_"You shouldn't touch that."_

_I jump and take a step back, my bow now loaded with an arrow. She doesn't even flinch at having a weapon trained on her. I lower the weapon without her even asking, determining that she was no threat to me. She walks over toward me and takes the rabbit down from the trap it was in. "What's your name?"_

"_Tom. And you?"_

"_Gwen."_

We have hunted together ever since.

I open my arms for her and she enters them with a small laugh. I wrap them around her and bury my face in her hair. There was something about her that just calmed me right down. I don't know whether it's her smell or just her, but when we're hunting together, I know I am at my best.

We pull away from one another and share a laugh. Despite the heaviness in the air from the reaping, here we're allowed to be however we want. Whomever we want. We walk along in the woods, checking the snares she had set up before my arrival.

"I wish you would teach me how you make these," I comment as I examine one of her snares.

I see Gwen's bright smile as she chuckles. "Yes, but then you would have no use for me."

"I don't know about that," the words were out of my mouth before they could be stopped. Gwen's smile disappears and she quickly looks away, but not before I notice just the smallest hint of red in her cheeks. What is that all about, I wonder.

"We could do it, you know. Run."

Gwen's voice brings me back to the present and I look over at her. Run? From the district? "We could." I state simply, with a small shrug, as if to say 'so what?'

"The kids would make it difficult." She adds with a small smile. When she says 'the kids' I know she means our siblings, my Kieran and her two brothers and one sister. It would be hard to run with them, but I suppose it could be possible.

However, I choose not to respond. I can't bring myself to leave Kieran. After our father's death, our mother struggled. She couldn't even get out of bed long enough to cook for us. Kieran and I would have starved to death if I hadn't taken the initiative to hunt and gather our food. I can't leave Kieran and risk that happening again.

Thankfully, Gwen drops the subject, but the atmosphere between us has changed. I wonder if this has anything to do with the reaping today. There will be a bowl filled with names, and Gwen's will be in there too many times.

The reaping is the day where two names-one male, one female-will be picked. These two poor souls will have been selected as their district's participants in the Hunger Games, a battle to the death where there can only be one victor. The games are a way for the Capitol to remind us of the rebellion years back, where District 13 was completely destroyed. You become eligible for the games at the age of twelve, where your name will be entered once. This increases every year until you are eighteen, which is the last year of eligibility.

However, you can enter your name again in exchange for the tesserae, a small supply of grain and oil enough for one person. When I was twelve, I signed up for three, thus putting my name in a total of four times. This means that my name will be written on twenty slips of paper this year. Eighteen year old Gwen, trying to feed her family of five, will have her name written on forty-two slips.

"Happy Hunger Games."

I look up at Gwen and see her holding up a few fish. I grin and load my bow, having seen a squirrel through the corner of my eye. I let the arrow fly, hearing a soft thump. Walking over, I hold up the squirrel, arrow sticking out of its eye, with a wide smile. "And may the odds be ever in your favor!"


	2. Two

When we leave the woods, it is with far more game and food than we had anticipated on having. We head to the Hob first, knowing that we will be able to sell or trade a good portion of it to benefit our families. The warehouse was abandoned once technology had progressed enough for us to find a better way to transport coal, and the Hob gradually took it over.

We go to Greasy Sae first, giving her a choice of what she wanted. Her name isn't actually Greasy Sae. It's Beryl Patmore, but she'll skin you alive and add you to her soup if she ever hears those words tumble from your lips. She trades us some paraffin for a good handful of greens, then offers us a bowl of soup. We decline, gratefully, having eaten our fill in the woods.

When we leave the Hob, we have made quite a few good trades. Pleased with ourselves, we make our way to the mayor's house. While in the woods, we found a patch of ripe strawberries, which the mayor has a weakness for. When we arrive, his daughter opens the door. Anna Carson looks picturesque in an expensive white dress with a pink ribbon tying back her blonde hair. Anna and I were in the same year together. I wouldn't necessarily consider us friends, but we were friendly with one another. She sits with me at lunch and despite the lack of conversation, she doesn't seem to mind.

"You look lovely, Anna." I greet with a smile.

"Oh, thank you, Tom." She reaches down to tug at the dress a bit. "I suppose I want to look nice if I have to go to the Capitol today."

Gwen snorts and I grimace, already knowing what's coming before it even happens. "You don't have to worry about going to the Capitol today. The odds _aren't_ in your favor." The harshness in Gwen's voice is unfounded but understandable when you know her predicament.

"Don't be cruel, Gwen."

"Well it's true. Her name has been entered, what, five times? I had my name entered six times my first year."

"That isn't her fault," I argue, but I can tell Gwen doesn't care to hear it. I sigh and look over at Anna, who surprisingly seems unfazed. I hand over the strawberries and she gives me the money we're owed.

"Good luck, Tom," she murmurs before shutting the door.

Gwen and I walk away from the mayor's house, neither of us saying a word. I am beyond upset with Gwen's behavior, and I can tell she isn't particularly thrilled with mine either.

"What's gotten into you, Gwen?" I whisper softly, stopping the redhead from walking by stepping in her path.

"Nothing," she answers briefly, motioning me to move aside. I ignore her unstated request and she sighs. "It's the reaping," she confesses. "I hate it. I hate the Capitol for punishing us year after year because one district lashed out."

"All the districts fought," I remind her.

"But 13 started it," she counters, throwing her hands up in frustration. "And then disappeared."

"They were bombed, Gwen." I am generally confused by her attitude. Gwen has always had a particular disgust for the Capitol. Normally I hear it while we're in the woods. This, it makes me nervous.

"Forget it, Tom. I'll see you later." I watch as she walks away, toward her own home and her own family. I head back toward the Seam, where my mother and brother are waiting for me. I try to shake off the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, but it continues to gnaw at me.

Kieran greets me happily at the door and I ruffle his hair in response. My mother can already tell that something is wrong, but she doesn't ask. I hand her what we had caught and traded for, and she smiles gratefully. Things are still tense between my mother and I since my father's death, but we are both making strides to make it better.

I notice that my brother is already dressed. It will be the first reaping he is entered in, and I can't help feeling nervous. He follows me into the other room where my bath is waiting.

"Will you teach me to hunt soon?" He asks before I even have a chance to strip. He asks me just about everyday, and everyday I tell him the same thing.

"When you're older."

"I'm old enough now. Please Tom?"

As I slide into the bath, I debate his request. He is older, technically. It could be beneficial. Who knows what could happen at the reaping?

"We'll see," I reply, which he promptly takes as a yes. I laugh at Kieran's excitement and shoo him out of the room so I can bathe in peace. When I'm finished, I dress into a pair of pants and the nicest shirt I own. My mother adjusts my collar and gives me a smile.

We eat a small meal and then head for the reaping in the square. We're quickly separated-Kieran heads to the roped off section in the back for the twelve year olds, my mother is with the rest of the parents off to the side, and I am toward the front with the rest of the sixteen-year-olds. I nod toward a few of my classmates, but we don't speak. What's there left to say?

On the stage in front of us are a podium, three chairs (two of which are filled), and two glass bowls filled with slips of paper-one for the boys and one for the girls. Inside of the boys' bowl are twenty slips with my name. But inside the girls'...I look back at Gwen and she's looking over at me. I offer her a small smile and an encouraging nod. She returns the gesture, then looks forward when Anna's father steps up to the podium

Mayor Carson began his usual speech, going over the history of the Hunger Games. It's something we've all heard before and I find my mind begin to wander. That is, until the third chair is filled.

District 12 has only had two victors in the seventy-four years that the games have been held. One is dead. One is very much alive, and very drunk as he makes his way onto the stage. John Bates stumbles into his chair, hollering something completely unintelligible. I fight back the urge to laugh and see Gwen trying to do the same.

Mayor Carson, ever the perfectionist, continues his speech without even blinking. When he's finished, he introduces the person the other person on stage.

Sarah O'Brien, while having quite a common name, is anything but. Her outfit, from the obvious pink wig to the ridiculous makeup on her face, just screams 'Capitol!' She is an escort for the tributes of District 12 and there's no doubt that she's hoping to be promoted to another district. I can hardly blame her.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" She greets with a smile. She turns toward the bowl filled with girls' names and announces, "Ladies first!" as she draws a paper from the bowl. I unconsciously hold my breath, my eyes fixated on the back of Gwen's head.

But it isn't Gwen's name she announces.

"Sybil Crawley!"

Oh no. I watch the dark haired young woman step up to the stage. Sybil Crawley's family owns and works at a bakery in town. Gwen and I had sold a couple squirrels to her father earlier today for a few loaves of bread.

She keeps her eyes cast downward as Sarah asks for volunteers, but no one does. Poor Sybil, I think to myself.

Sarah is moving on to the next bowl and I barely have any time to think about Sybil's misfortune possibly becoming my own when she reads the next name.

It's Kieran Branson.


	3. Three

I feel my stomach turn and my lungs feel as if they are not getting enough air. No. No it isn't supposed to be this way. No. Kieran isn't supposed to be the tribute.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

The voice that comes from my mouth feels alien and the words sound panicked and strained. I hear gasps behind me and Kieran comes blasting through the crowd, his arms around me before I can stop him.

"No, Tom! You can't! No! No!" I hear his begging and it nearly breaks me. I attempt to shove him away, but his grip is too tight.

"Kieran, I have to. I have to!" I try to extricate myself from his limbs, but he's much too strong and far too upset to be reasoned with...and I am far too close to a breakdown.

Arms appear to help and they hold him back away from me. Gwen. I see the tears in her eyes. She smiles at me, however, and motions for me to go. This is beginning to be too much and I struggle to make it to the stage without crying. I hear Sarah tittering to the mayor about me not waiting until volunteer were asked for, but he doesn't seem to care much. He knows what this means. He gets up, however, to read the Treaty of Treason. His tone and demeanor is different now. I stare straight ahead, trying to stay composed.

As is customary following the treaty, Sybil and I shake hands. I can see the unshed tears in her eyes. She's having just as hard of a time as I am. I feel her give my hand an extra squeeze and suddenly a thought occurred to me: I can't kill her. I know there will be other tributes. But if it came down to it, I am not sure I could follow through.

When everything is said and done, Sybil and I are swept into custody and led into the Justice Building. We are taken to separate rooms, ones that are far nicer than we're used to. The couch is made of velvet, a fabric I recognize from one of my mother's dresses. I realize what happens now.

Now we say goodbye.

My mother and Kieran appear first. Kieran launches himself at me, refusing to budge even an inch. My mother has tears in her eyes.

"You can't let him take any tesserae," I tell my mother, feeling Kieran tighten his grip.

"Of course not."

"And you can't leave again. I won't be here to take care of Kieran, so you have to."

This angers her and she doesn't attempt to hide it. "Tom, I was ill. Your father had just died."

"I know." A hush falls on the conversation, and we hold each other until it's time for them to go. I tell them I love them and give them each a kiss. They're escorted out of the room and I am left by myself for a time.

That is, until the baker's wife comes in.

The first thing I notice is how much Sybil looks like her. Piercing blue eyes and dark hair. In my interactions with her, she seemed extremely nice, and quiet. Her husband, on the other hand, was loud and prone to lashing out because of his nasty temper. I have seen Sybil come to school looking bruised and wilted.

"Tom, I just wanted to bring you these," Mrs. Crawley murmurs softly, holding out a small package. I take it gratefully, nodding in thanks, and open it. Cookies. She brought me cookies.

"Thank you."

"I'll keep an eye on them for you. As best I can."

"You don't have to..."

"I want to. Please."

I nod again, offering her a small smile. "Thank you. Truly."

She smiles and nods, and before I know it, she's left the room. I am hoping I don't see Gwen, but she's the next person that walks in.

"Gwen-" I can't even get any words out before her arms are wrapped tight around me, her face pressed into the crook of my neck. "Gwen..." I whisper, my voice cracking.

"I'll make sure your mother and Kieran eat, like we promised."

"Gwen..."

"I'll even hunt extra to get your mother something to trade for."

I gently pull away from her, my hands on her shoulders. "And you'll look out for them if I-"

"Don't you go there, Tom Branson. I won't hesitate to punch that stupid face of yours."

We smile at one another, tears in both of our eyes. Peacekeepers come in then. My hour is up and it's time to leave. I can feel Gwen's grip tighten and she fights against them when they grab her.

"Gwen!"

"Tom, I-"

And then she's gone.


End file.
